


i wondered if i could come home (yours is the first face that i saw)

by iPhone



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Quarantine, Romance, Texting, their love is digital, weekly bechloe challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: Chloe works in New York. Beca works in LA. The quarantine brings them together virtually. God bless technology.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 52
Kudos: 318





	i wondered if i could come home (yours is the first face that i saw)

**Author's Note:**

> This is horrible, but I thought it was a cute idea and it stuck with me. I hope the execution was okay. Title from “First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes.

Beca had initially been ridiculously excited about the prospect of staying home. She _hated_ dressing up just to go and sit, spaced out at her laptop.

Now she has free rein to just wear whatever the fuck she wants _while_ spaced out from the comfort of her own home.

A quick glance around however indicates that there isn’t much to call home anyway. When Beca had moved to Los Angeles with nothing more than her laptop, twenty USBs packed with remixes and original music, and a luggage full of clothes, she had pretty much expected _this_.

 _This_ being the whole struggling artist thing. Her father had advised against it, her step-mother had advised against it (not like Beca really was planning on listening), and her mother was—

Well.

Beca would rather not think about it. Of course, she wouldn’t.

But she did—it was all she could think about for those first few weeks in Los Angeles. Those first few months.

When she had first made the move, she had fantasized about her mother kissing in her on her head (a phantom memory if anything) and telling her how proud she was of her for chasing her dreams.

She had imagined her mother’s arm around her shoulder as they made that final descent into LAX.

She had imagined her mother’s proud smile when she had signed the papers for her first _real_ job in the music industry—that breath of fresh air that really cemented in her memory that she had _made_ it. She was there in the city of her dreams. She had moved across the country from Atlanta to Los Angeles.

But eventually, with time, after one let-down after another, Beca’s USB pile grew smaller and thinner and her job became less of a temporary thing and more of a full-time thing to keep her afloat.

 _Are you still proud of me?_ She wants to ask.

She can’t quite envision the look on her mother’s face—hell she can’t quite envision the look on her father’s face or even Sheila’s face—if she were to look around her small (but cozy) apartment.

 _Is this what you wanted for me?_ Beca wants to ask.

Change just doesn’t seem to come quick enough in a city with plenty of time to spare and too many hungry dreams to fulfil.

* * *

And then there’s _this_.

The whole quarantine mess.

It’s a form of change, Beca supposes. Maybe not quite the one she needs at that moment.

 _***New Notification from Outlook  
** _ **_You have a new message_ **

From: Aubrey Posen

CC: Chloe Beale

To: Beca Mitchell

 **Subject** : HR and A&R Documents and Procedure — Microsoft Teams Meeting Request

Beca groans. 

* * *

Being a producer isn’t _bad_. It lets Beca flex her creativity from time to time (very, _very_ minimally) and she gets to say she’s worked on interesting musical projects.

Grumbling to herself, Beca settles down in her chair after wrestling with her hair and brush. She figures she looks moderately presentable. She even swapped out her sleep shirt for a _non_ -sleep shirt for the purposes of this video conference.

She has no idea who Chloe Beale and Aubrey Posen are anyway, but she’s already moderately annoyed that they both insist on _video conferencing_ when this quarantine has made evident that literally everything can be done via email.

Beca takes a calming breath. The raise is a _good_ thing. It came at a good time. It’s a good thing to get a raise at a job she hates especially when the alternative would have been to be let go. If she has to deal with HR for the sake of this, she will.

Not like she can do anything else.

The call comes in almost as soon as Beca wheels her chair closer to her desk. She fumbles, picking up her headphones and hitting _Accept_.

“Hi,” Beca says, waving awkwardly at her screen. “Uh. Wow. Hi.”

Almost immediately, Beca wants to clamp a hand over her mouth. She settles on dropping her hand into her lap and clutching the fabric of her shirt to distract herself from the embarrassment rising in her.

The young woman splashed across her screen is incredibly pretty. Almost intimidatingly so. Striking red hair, loosely draped over her shoulders in comfortable waves. Soft-looking lips pulled into a gentle smile.

And her eyes— _Christ_ , Beca thinks—her eyes are what draw Beca in the most. Startling blue. The clearest of blues that Beca has ever seen.

“Wow?” The woman smiles at Beca. “That’s quite the greeting.”

“Sorry,” Beca mumbles hastily. She ducks her head. “Surprised to still talk to people during all this, I guess,” she lies quickly. She figures saying “you’re _hot_ ” wouldn’t be the most appropriate thing to say despite how true it might be.

The red-head quirks an eyebrow at her. “I’m Chloe Beale, nice to meet you Beca Mitchell.”

Beca can’t fight the smile this time. Chloe’s voice is _nice_. It’s beautiful and melodic. “Hi Chloe. Nice to meet you,” Beca parrots back. “Weren’t there supposed to be like...two of you in this meeting?”

“Oh, yes!” Chloe chirps enthusiastically. “Aubrey will be joining us in just a second—oh there she is,” she says just as Aubrey’s profile image pops into Beca’s screen, cutting the size of Chloe’s face on her screen in half.

“Good morning, Beca.”

“Good morning, Aubre–”

“It’s technically afternoon for us, but anyway.”

Beca clamps her mouth shut, choosing to push her lips into a forced, polite smile. She catches a glimpse of Chloe coughing behind her hand, clearly stifling a laugh of her own.

“Did you want to run through some of the documents and responsibilities, Chloe?”

Chloe clears her throat, professional mask back in place. “Yes, sure. Well, Beca, as a senior producer—”

* * *

With half-open eyes, Beca drags herself from her bed the short distance to her desk. Foregoing her chair for the moment because she has no intent on actually sitting down yet, Beca opens her laptop and logs in to Outlook and Teams before opening Logic Pro X and GarageBand.

She has been working on some tracks for an up and coming artist as well as overseeing the production on an EP for a new artist signed to a label, so she’s kind of expecting a shitload of emails to start her day off. That can wait for the moment.

When she gets back to her computer, coffee mug in hand, Beca notices a notification marker on her applications.

_***New Notification from Teams** _

Beca frowns. She’s not the usual recipient of messages _ever_. But when she sees who exactly messaged her, she can’t fight the grin. She puts her coffee down with some reluctance and opens the message fully.

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Hey sleepyhead, you’re finally up_  
 _Thanks for sending the paperwork back yesterday_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _fyi i am three hours behind you_  
 _timezones or something as aubrey would say_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Who doesn’t start their day at 6am?_

Beca isn’t quite sure what to make of Chloe entirely. She’ll blame the echoing loneliness around her—loneliness being all she feels these days—but she would be lying if she weren’t totally and shallowly attracted to Chloe Beale.

But she barely _knows_ her. In fact, Beca would go as far as to say she doesn’t know Chloe at all. Chloe could just be another faceless entity in the long string of entities in Beca’s life. Just another missed connection.

Beca sips her coffee, blinking blearily at her screen.

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _do you start your day at 6??_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _It’s good for you!_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _coffee’s good for you_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _i’m more of a tea drinker myself_  
 _good for the voice_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _singer?_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _used to be_

Beca arches an eyebrow. She had known, from the sound of Chloe’s voice alone, that she was something special

(And sure, Aubrey had a nice voice too, but it had been used primarily to grate on Beca’s nerves so she’s choosing to look past it.)

_**Beca Mitchell  
** whats the story there?_

**Chloe Beale  
** _Hmm maybe one day :)_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _all i have are days to spare for you_

Beca hits send before she can regret it and immediately winces at how unexpectedly flirtatious it sounds. She moves to type a quick cover-up, but Chloe beats her in sending a message.

 **Chloe Beale  
** _i like the sound of that_

Beca’s fingers hover over her keyboard. She can’t bring herself to admit the same thing, even though it’s true.

She does like the sound of that. Almost as much as she had liked the sound of Chloe’s voice.

* * *

It ends up being so easy to fall into a routine when Beca realizes that she has something to look forward to with each subsequent day.

A routine that perhaps even involves waking up earlier so she can spend more time sending Chloe dumb GIFs and debate the best bagel spreads.

It feels nice.

It feels like something Beca could get used to.

Even if Chloe is incessantly cheerful and ridiculously chipper at any given point of the day. Beca kind of likes it.

It reminds her of sunshine and a much-needed breath of fresh air.

There _is_ the added bonus (or nightmare) of Chloe’s incessant need to abuse the video conference tool.

“Beca, make sure you have those documents signed. A&R needs them as soon as possible.”

“You couldn’t have messaged this to me? Or emailed?”

Chloe grins, blindingly so. Beca doesn’t even try to look away.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Beca tugs at the collar of her shirt (another new shirt) unconsciously before she realizes what she’s doing and drops her hand away. “And you’d know all about fun, would you?”

“Maybe.”

Beca shakes her head, mostly to hide the smile that rises on her face.

“Nice shirt by the way.”

* * *

Okay, fine.

Even _that_ isn’t something that Beca finds herself annoyed with.

* * *

Beca bites her lip, hitting _SEND_ before she can stop herself. The email flies away from her, an email detailing a request to video conference with Chloe for some dumb, made-up reason.

Well, no, there’s an _actual_ reason and it’s that Beca wants to hear Chloe’s voice. That’s a good enough reason.

 ***You have a new Outlook Notification.  
** **Chloe Beale has Accepted Your Invitation**.

Beca smiles.

* * *

**Chloe Beale  
** _I’ve always wanted to visit Los Angeles_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Come over here then!_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Maybe once this is all over_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Oh right_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Well if you ever need a place to stay…_

Beca starts to sweat. She thinks about deleting her message, but what good would that do? Chloe has already seen it.

“Fuck,” she mutters aloud and promptly chooses to chicken out.

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _I know a lot of people who’d love to have you_  
 _and i’ll bring you to all the best spots around town  
You know, me being an expert and all  
hahaha_

“Fuck why did you say that?” Beca asks herself, resisting the urge to slam her laptop closed. She winces when she notices her unfinished work in the background.

She’s kind of more focused on the little indicator showing that Chloe has seen her message and the subsequent lack of response.

She is unfortunately sorely disappointed by Chloe’s response, despite her own attempts at haphazardly diffusing the situation.

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Sounds awesome!_

 _Right,_ Beca mulls to herself. There _hadn’t_ been a situation to begin with.

She lets the disappointment carry her through the rest of the day. The disappointing feeling—It is familiar but somehow more striking.

* * *

The thing about Chloe is that she makes _everything_ easy. She never makes Beca feel bad about asking too many questions and she never makes Beca feel totally lame for taking up her time. She assures Beca that it’s fine—that she doesn’t mind at all. It makes Beca feel like a rockstar for about two seconds before she remembers that it’s Chloe’s _literal_ job to be kind and nice to people she works with.

Right.

They’re technically coworkers. Just that. Nothing more.

And then there’s the whole... _is Chloe even attracted to women_ conundrum. It is nice to think that Chloe is attracted to women—that Chloe would be attracted to her of all people.

It’s just such a big _what if_ question.

(And of course the “we live 3000 miles away” issue. That issue.)

There _is_ a strange underpinning of something else—something that Beca can’t quite place. It sends a swooping sensation through her stomach when she thinks about it. The past month or so of communicating with Chloe was rife with tense, interesting moments that make Beca second-guess herself every time.

Barring the times when she word vomits all over herself, Beca is surprised that she’s maintained a connection with Chloe for this long.

* * *

The dreams start near the end of the first month of knowing each other.

The awkward part about waking up from a dream about somebody she’s never even _met_ in person is that Beca has no idea how to conduct herself. She barely knows how to do it in-person—conduct herself—let alone doing it online.

She tries to settle on something to occupy her mind while she works through some musical/creative block.

Her fingers type in **chloe beale** into Google before she can help herself.

“Fuck it,” Beca whispers, hitting _enter_.

She is surprised by the breadth of hits that Google returns to her. Interesting ones, nonetheless. She learns in short order that Chloe does _voice acting_ on the side. Nothing overtly taxing, but it pleases Beca that Chloe has somewhat of a creative streak. She notes a few well-known animated series and some other gigs here and there.

An old YouTube video catches her attention.

_Acapella Finals 2011_

Beca can’t stop the grin that stretches across her face when she recognizes Chloe, red hair and all, front and center and _singing_.

She knew Chloe was a singer at heart.

She pulls up her chat before she can stop herself.

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _*pasted link*_  
 _I see_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Oh my god!_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Google knows all_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _You were Googling me?_

Beca’s smile drops. “Shit, uh—”

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Kidding! i googled you too._  
 _Didn’t think you were a taylor swift girl.  
All those remixes… <3_

Beca blushes before she can stop herself. That had been a brief foray of fame—literally five minutes—when Taylor Swift herself had linked to one of Beca’s remixes. Beca hadn’t been savvy enough to capitalize on that in any way, however.

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _oh those..._  
 _I wish i had more original things to say_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _Your music is beautiful, just like you are_  
 _I mean that in a totally non-weird way of course_

Beca isn’t quite sure they’re saying the same things, but maybe they are. Chloe’s unwavering faith in her feels wholly misplaced more often than not.

But it’s nice.

This is nice.

Beca lets a smile consume her.

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Flattery will get you everywhere_

 **Chloe Beale  
** _That’s the hope_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Back to acapella…  
_ _i was wondering if i could pick your mind  
_ _for an idea i had for this track i’m working on_

* * *

The transition to Facetime and phone calls as opposed to Teams video conferencing was a fairly recent one. Beca discovered that Chloe is an equally eager texter. Emojis and all.

“Your voice somehow sounds better over FaceTime audio,” Chloe teases.

“I was going to say the same,” Beca replies before she can stop herself. Her heart flutters. “I wasn’t the one in acapella in college, after all.”

“Oh you would have fit right in. I would have whipped you into shape, I’m pretty sure. Or maybe you would have helped us win instead. Being as talented as you are and all.”

“I wish I could have known you then,” Beca says bravely.

“You would have changed my life,” Chloe admits. She says it with a smile, but there is no hint of a joke in Chloe’s tone. “I don’t sing anymore,” she finally says. “Not after that last acapella competition. The one you sent me.”

“Oh, why not? Your voice is…” Beca trails off, struggling to find words. For all the time she spends with music—literally layering vocals and instrumentals—she cannot understand how she cannot find appropriate words to describe how Chloe’s voice makes her feel. “I’m sorry...I’m usually better at this. Why don’t you sing anymore?”

“I had to have surgery for my nodes in my senior year of university. I’ve been too afraid to sing again.”

That breaks Beca’s heart more than anything. “But your voice is okay now,” she says lamely.

“I haven’t really had an opportunity to sing again. Working for B&R Records is the closest I can get to the music industry. Not that I ever thought I’d sing professionally or anything.” Chloe sighs, then her voice softens even more. “I admire you so much for pursuing your dreams, Beca. You’re so much better than you know. I’ve listened to your stuff.”

Beca swallows.

Her heart isn’t fluttering.

It is racing, almost uncontrollably.

* * *

They talk for _hours_.

Beca tries not to think about it as she wakes up to her phone pressed against her cheek uncomfortably and the faintest memory of Chloe humming something hauntingly familiar.

“Shit,” she mutters, realizing that her heart has yet to stop thudding with the force of emotions she feels.

* * *

***Google search history**

  * online dating
  * _quarantine dating_
  * _flights to New York_
  * _amazon delivery time_
  * _online dating in quarantine_
  * _relationships in covid-19_
  * _online date ideas_



* * *

***iMessage Notification**

**From Chloe Beale  
** _install netflix party!_

 **Beca Mitchell  
** _Already did! waiting on you..._

* * *

Chloe ends up being the person Beca calls when she receives yet _another_ change request for the track she had been working on. She isn’t allowed to move on to another track until this artist is _absolutely_ pleased with the track and Beca understands how contracts works and stuff, but holy shit, she’s had it up to her damn _forehead_ with Pimp Lo and his incessant demands to keep his music trashy (Beca’s professional opinion).

“I want to quit,” Beca declares to Chloe. She knows Chloe is done with work for the day even though Beca has about an hour or so left in her “shift” (she has decided time is a construct and she’s signing out for the day due to creative differences).

“Don’t quit,” Chloe says quickly. “And um...don’t tell me that. Professional responsibility and all.”

She says it with a joking tone, but it still stings ever so slightly for Beca. The reminder that she and Chloe are coworkers and nothing more. She’s sure she’s going to hear even less from Chloe as time goes on and when everything kind of goes back to “normal”.

But she kind of doesn’t _want_ to stop talking to Chloe.

“It’s just annoying,” Beca complains.

“Oh honey, I know,” Chloe sympathizes. Beca warms at the term of endearment.

“Beca, your music is _good_ ,” Chloe promises earnestly. “I’ve listened to a lot of music over the past few years I’ve been working here...just promise me you won’t give up, okay?”

Unexpected anger wells up in Beca. She identifies frustration, annoyance, and some measure of pain—all of which have to do largely with this entire situation. Somehow, she manages to tamp it all down and focuses on the sincerity of Chloe’s voice.

“I just don’t want to...have my ideas shot down like this anymore,” she finally murmurs, taking a breath to steady herself.

“I know,” Chloe promises. “It won’t always be like that though.”

“I’ve been out here for a year. Verging on two.”

“I _know_ ,” Chloe repeats, sincere understanding in her tone. “And it sucks that Hollywood just eats people up and just...I don’t know. Spits them back out like that. But...you’re special. I know you are.”

Beca shudders with her own attempt to stifle a sob. “And that’s your professional HR opinion?” she asks, trying to make it sound more like a joke so Chloe doesn’t take it badly.

Chloe scoffs, then lets out a giggle. Beca wishes more than anything she could see her face. “Yes, that is absolutely my professional HR opinion and I think you should take it. I don’t come cheap.”

It’s less than what Beca hoped for. She had hoped for something a bit more—something closer to the kind of reassurance Chloe had been giving her over the past little while. This feels like two steps backwards.

“I wish I could see you,” Beca blurts.

Chloe doesn’t say anything for a moment. A moment too long. Beca’s face heats embarrassingly quickly. She is so thankful that she is alone in her apartment.

“I’m sorry,” Beca apologizes. “That was weird. And I didn’t mean to make things weird. I’m not weird, I promise. Maybe a little. But not like _that_.”

Chloe laughs. “Beca, it’s okay. I know what you meant. Or what you mean.” She laughs again, this time sounding more breathless. “It’s just...I guess it’s just late and we should probably...table this for another day.”

Beca’s heart plummets.

“We don’t have to table anything,” Beca says quickly, stung by the rejection. “Forget I said anything.”

“Beca—”

“Goodnight, Chloe.”

* * *

***iMessage Notification  
** **From Chloe Beale  
** _Beca, are you okay?_

 ***iMessage Notification  
** **From Chloe Beale  
** _Call me when you can_

* * *

Beca notices she has a request from HR for a video conference. There are no other details, but she knows it’s from Chloe. Her stomach tenses uncomfortably as she stares at the words on her screen. The conference is set up from about five minutes from _now_ so she has about five minutes to get her shit together.

She hadn’t meant to ignore Chloe, she had just been a bit too absorbed into her work (as a way to avoid Chloe).

But she isn’t _mad_ with the music she’s been making recently. She probably has Chloe to thank for that. For being an inspirational source.

She can do this.

She looks around, taking a deep breath as she takes stock of everything that she has in her apartment. Her eyes land on something by her window and she goes to grab it.

She returns to her computer just in time for the call.

“Hi,” Beca says, blinking into her computer screen. “Hi, Chloe, is everything—”

“You know, radio silence is probably the worst way to woo somebody.”

Beca thinks she might still be asleep. “Sorry?”

Chloe seems to be fighting a smile. “You don’t even know how cute you are, do you?”

“I’m not cute,” Beca says automatically.

“You are. In a hot way.”

“In a hot way,” Beca echoes. She grins. “Are you calling me hot?”

“I saw you checking me out that first day. Obvious even through webcam.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mind. I...never minded. Which is what makes this so hard,” Chloe says, lowering her head a little. She worries her lower lip between her teeth, leaning closer to her camera. “This is so weird and so hard. I didn’t expect to just...fall for somebody while we’re all just trying to figure out how to make things okay again, you know?”

“So…” Beca swallows, wondering if this is the appropriate forum for what she’s sure is about to come out of Chloe’s mouth.

“I like you,” Chloe admits. “I think you’re brave and talented and incredible. And there’s so much we still have to learn about each other, but I have been driving myself crazy thinking about how much I want to kiss you.” Chloe clears her throat and holds up a small pot of pretty, purple flowers. “These are for you. I couldn’t really go to the store to get a fresh bunch. But um. If I could, I would.”

_Oh._

“Isn’t this against company policy?” Beca croaks out. She can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. “Like can’t they see everything? Even videos?”

Chloe shrugs. “I don’t care. Not really. Look around, Beca. Nobody really cares anymore. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Beca covers her face with her hand. “This is super embarrassing.”

Chloe giggles. “Oh stop. I’m the one literally holding out flowers to my screen.”

“No, it’s just—” Beca holds up the potted plant she had stolen from her windowsill. “Here. I brought this for you too.”

Chloe gasps. “A cactus? You shouldn’t have.”

There is a brief silence before they dissolve into giggles. It makes Beca feel the most complete and whole that she has in while.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Were we even in a fight?” Beca asks aloud.

“No,” Chloe admits. “I just...thought I scared you off.”

“I think I scared myself off.” Beca crinkles her nose as she frowns. “If that makes sense.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I think it’s the most sensible thing you’ve said so far.”

* * *

Eventually, the time comes where Beca can go outside again.

Beca knows what it means to have sunshine on her face. There is no shortage of it in Los Angeles.

There is no shortage of palm trees, of warm wind, of endless beach views.

There is no shortage of too many dreams and too little opportunities for those dreams to come true.

But this—the excited yelp Chloe lets out when she pushes off the pillar she had been leaning against and the solid weight of Chloe’s body nestled firmly against her own as her arms loop easily around Beca’s neck—this is so much better than anything Beca could have dreamed for herself.

She can feel her mother’s smile, warm like the gentlest of sunrises against the back of her neck. She can feel the weight of a new pile of USBs in her bag and a fresh outlook on life.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Chloe whispers, her voice real and solid and _there_.

“Me too,” is all Beca can say.

She kisses Chloe like it’s the first day of the rest of her life.


End file.
